


When One Door Closes

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fate, Fluff, I like to write these two a happy ending, Poor Theon, Sansa to the rescue!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: Three times that Sansa "saved" Theon and the one time he returned the favor. The fluffiest of fluff with a touch of sinister Ramsay.





	1. Chapter 1

_"The gods have a strange sense of humor."_

_Yes, it seemed that most of the times Sansa encountered Theon, there was some kind of door between them...literally. But at least it was never a wall. Doors, after all, can be opened..._

==========

"It's locked!"

"Go find Robb!"

"He's gone out with Mother and Father. I'll tell Jon."

"No! Not Jon. He'll never let me live this down."

"So what do we do?"

She heard a long and low sigh from behind the shed doors.

"We...wait."

"Shall I stay with you then? I'm sure Jeyne will understand if I'm late." Sansa Stark, so very polite and calm in the face of a crisis.

"You can't say anything about this."

"I won't." Sansa paused. "But you have to tell me who did this."

"Can't you guess?"

"Yara?"

"No. She'd have let me out after a few minutes."

"I give up."

"It was that new kid. Ramsay. Little shit."

"Ramsay isn't allowed to play at our house. Not since he shot at Lady and Nymeria with his BB gun."

"That nutcase ambushed me on my way over and pushed me in here. I wanted to show Robb my new bike."

"Oh...your... _bike_?"

"Why'd you say it like that? What's wrong?"

"Um...there's a bike next to the shed. I mean, part...of a bike."

Sansa jumped back as she heard a loud clatter from inside the shed.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright! Balon will have my head!" It sounded like Theon might cry. Sansa looked around uncomfortably, hoping to see the family car approaching so she could get Robb.

Theon continued talking in a high pitched voice. "He kept saying it. Over and over again. _Theon's favorite toy. Theon's favorite toy._ And then he was gone. I should have known."

"I'm sorry, Theon. Can I get you anything?"

"Well...I am kinda thirsty. It's hot in here."

"I have an idea. Be right back!"

"Okay. Don't forget about me."

Sansa scampered over to the Stark house, entering through the side door and popping back out after a few minutes. When she reached the shed, she was out of breath.

"H-here. Here's a straw. I'll push it through the crack between the doors, and you can have some nice cold lemonade."

"Thanks, Sansa!"

"And...even better. I grabbed all the keys from the kitchen drawer. Maybe one of these will open the lock."

"Brilliant." Theon listened anxiously as she tried key after key until finally he heard the padlock click open. Sansa wiggled it off the handles, and Theon pushed his way out.

Everything was so bright, but he'd never forget the silhouette of nine year old Sansa, standing proudly with hands on hips, fiery red hair, only hesitating a moment before she lunged at him with a warm embrace.

Happy to have been freed, he planted a kiss on top of her head and stepped back to admire her gentle smile and freckled nose. "I owe you one, Sansa."


	2. Chapter 2

"Loras will be looking for you." Margery was admiring her own reflection in the bathroom mirror as she spoke to Sansa.

"Don't wait on me. I'm sure that Joffrey is desperate to see you."

"Alright. See you back inside." Margery patted her friend on the shoulder and checked her make-up once more before leaving Sansa to her thoughts.

 _Thank gods_ , she was relieved that Joffrey had asked Margery to the prom and not her. Sansa was over the moon when Loras had invited her, though she hadn't seen much of him all night. It was more about the experience anyway and being one of the only freshman at prom. Her mother had been just as excited and helped her pick out a strapless dark blue gown with white flowers embroidered in the bodice and a lovely silk wrap.

Everything had been wonderful. Sansa never would have imagined that their gymnasium could be transformed into something so beautiful - a winter wonderland of sorts. Her father had made her older brothers promise to look after her, but Robb and Jon were quite busy with their own dates.

She finished retouching her make-up and ran a comb through her hair before deciding she was ready to return. She'd have to get at least one dance in with Robb since it was his last prom. And Theon Greyjoy had stopped her on the way in and made her promise him a dance.

Sansa started back down the dimly lit corridor. She could feel the music pulsating through the hallway and found her feet moving along with the rhythm. Stopping for a moment to adjust the strap of her shoe, Sansa leaned into the wall of lockers and accidentally banged her elbow into the cold metal. "Ouch!"

"Hello! Is somebody there?"

Sansa nearly jumped out of her skin. "Who said that?"

"Sansa? Is that you?"

"Who's there?"

"It's me...Theon."

"Theon?" Sansa looked frantically up and down the hallway. "Is this a joke? Where are you?"

She heard an exasperated sigh coming from the lockers. "I'm afraid the joke's on me."

"Gods! Which locker are you in?"

"135. At least he had the decency to stuff me in my own locker."

Sansa felt a strange sensation pass over her. It was like she was nine years old again, squinting to keep the sun out of her eyes and trying to figure out what to do next.

"Ramsay again?"

"Yep. Myranda led me out here, and Ramsay and two of his goons jumped me."

"Myranda? That skinny girl with the elfish face?"

"That's the one. And I thought she actually liked me."

"Oh, Theon." Sansa moved closer to the locker. She was searching for his bright blue eyes through the slants in the metal but could only see darkness.

"I guess she was just using me for sex."

"Okay. Good to know. Just tell me your combination, and I'll let you out."

"Can you go find Robb?"

"I could, but he'll be impossible to pry away from Talisa."

"Sansa, they didn't just lock me in here."

"What else?"

"I'd rather not say. It's not appropriate to mention in front of a lady."

"Oh, please! I've heard you talking about lewd things my whole life. Out with it."

Theon hesitated but then quietly confessed. "They took my clothes. Everything."

"So you're..." Her heart went out to him. Leave it to Ramsay to humiliate Theon at his senior prom.

Sansa suddenly found herself blushing with the realization that there was very little separating her from a naked Theon, something she may have pondered a time or two recently. That was before a little voice in her head had told her that her brother's best friend was probably off limits. Robb would never allow it. Besides, Theon Greyjoy had quite the reputation.

"I can get you some clothes from the theater room."

"Wait. There's more. Ramsay did something else."

Sansa braced herself for the next sorted detail. As she took a deep breath, a putrid smell filled her nostrils. "What is that awful stench?"

As soon as she had asked the question, Sansa looked down and noticed a small puddle next to her shoes.

"How do I put this? Ramsay, um...needed to relieve -"

"Say no more!" Sansa shook her head in disgust. "Boys are so gross! And Ramsay's a sociopath!"

"No argument there."

"What's the combination, Theon? I'm missing the prom. And so are you!"

"Sansa, I'm naked."

"Yes, yes. I know. So...here's the plan. You're going to cover up with my wrap and find your way to the locker room. Grab a shower. I'll meet you down there in ten minutes."

"Uh..."

"Now!"

"Fine. The combination is...36-24-36."

"Gods, Theon!" Sansa used the combination and then opened the locker door just slightly. She shoved her wrap into his outstretched fingers and then fled before she saw anything else.

==========

"How do I look?"

Sansa put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Like a mobster from the 40's, but it'll have to do." She had brought him a three piece suit from the recent production of _Guys and Dolls_.

"Sorry about this." He handed her a brown paper bag with her silk wrap tucked inside.

"It's not a big deal. I'll have it dry cleaned. Ready to go back with the others?"

"Thanks for everything, Sansa, but honestly, I'd rather go home. I need to start plotting my revenge."

"And give Ramsay the satisfaction of ruining your last prom?"

"It was pretty much ruined when I realized I wasn't getting laid tonight."

Sansa shifted her feet uncomfortably and felt a red hue forming across her cheeks.

"Sorry, that didn't sound very gentleman-like. But I thought you were used to my potty mouth." Theon poked her side playfully, and she swatted at his hand.

"You should at least report Ramsay to Principle Baelish."

"What's the point? Baelish doesn't care. Besides, I probably had it coming."

"Why's that?"

"Cuz I kicked Ramsay's ass in the archery tournament. And I wasn't very humble about it."

Theon was now grinning from ear to ear, recalling his first place win, and Sansa was glad to see him smiling. She knew that his father had always given him a hard time at home and that Theon had sometimes sought attention in less-than-healthy ways. One of those ways was provoking Ramsay Bolton.

"I'm just glad that you're graduating soon and can put some distance between you and this place."

"You won't miss me?" Theon moved towards her and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. Sansa froze and locked eyes with him. She was tempted for a moment to tuck a damp lock of hair that had fallen out of place behind his ear.

Instead, she watched him curiously as he began to lean in closer and closer towards her, stopping just a few inches from her face and suddenly taking a different course than she had expected. He whispered in her ear.

"Sansa Stark, let's go back. I'm ready for that dance now."


	3. Chapter 3

It was not quite as dreary as Sansa would have guessed, and thankfully, there were not rows of hardened criminals cat-calling her as the guard escorted her to the back.

Sansa could see Theon's eyes brighten as she approached his cell, which appeared to be the only one occupied at the moment.

He was leaning into the bars, fingers threaded through the metal rungs. "Thank gods you answered."

"Yes, lucky you. I was up late studying."

"Isn't it winter break?"

"I'm gearing up for next semester." 

Sansa had stopped a few feet in front him. It had been several months since she'd last seen Theon Greyjoy. And that was only briefly when he'd come by the house to meet up with Robb.

"How did you get my number?"

"From him." Theon pointed towards a dark corner of the cell where a man was slumped over, sound asleep, and snoring.

Sansa craned her neck to see. "Who's that?

"Jon. Guess he drank too much. He and Ygrette had a competition going. We were celebrating my birthday."

"That's right. 23, is it? Happy Birthday."

"Thanks. Robb was there for awhile. I would have invited you to come out if you were old enough, but I'm sure you don't partake anyway."

Sansa shrugged her shoulders.

"Tyrion bought me a drink."

"Tyrion? Mr. Lannister? Our history teacher?"

"Yes. He's hilarious. And he sure can hold his liquor." Theon must have recalled something that was said earlier in the evening because he started laughing and couldn't stop.

But Sansa was not amused. "You're drunk. And you expect my help? Why didn't you call your sister? Or your girlfriend?"

Theon's expression turned serious. "I don't have a girlfriend right now, and Yara's in here somewhere. Ygrette too."

"What kind of a brawl was it?"

"It got pretty rowdy. You can thank Ramsay Bolton."

"Really? You and Ramsay are still having a go at it? I thought maybe you would grow up once you went away to college. I was hoping..."

"Hoping for what?"

"Nevermind. And you didn't call Robb because you knew he'd tell my parents. And you didn't call Balon..."

"Why would I? We haven't spoken in months."

"So that left me. Glad I can be useful for something."

"As am I. Now can you please get us out of here?"

"How? The chief said he wants to keep you locked up until they can sort all of this out."

"Sort what out? Ramsay instigated the whole thing. He came over to our table after Robb left and started ranting and raving about you Starks."

"Why didn't you ignore him?"

"We tried, but he started calling Jon a bastard and me a cockless wonder - _I don't know where he got that idea_ \- and then he said some questionable things...about your honor."

"My honor? Why was I brought into this?"

"You know Ramsay. He tries to push buttons. I think he's still pissed that you messed up his prank. Remember? At prom."

"Yes, I remember."

Her first prom. She'd forgotten all about Loras that night and spent the rest of the dance with Theon and her brothers. She was shocked when Robb didn't protest to Theon driving her home but very disappointed when Theon had walked her to the door and left her with only a peck on the cheek. He had mumbled something about the timing not being right.

"What did Ramsay say about me?”

"He talked about some things the two of you had done."

Sansa let out a gasp. "He's a liar."

"Well, I know that, and so did everyone at our table. But there may have been a few of the other patrons whose interest was piqued. Anyway, he didn't have a chance to say too much more after Jon and I suggested that he shut his filthy, lying mouth and leave."

"But he didn't?"

"Nor did his low life friends who perceived me and Jon as a threat to their precious Ramsay. Chairs and punches were thrown, but the worst was when Ramsay pulled a knife."

Theon held up his left hand that had been haphazardly bandaged. Bright red blood was seeping through the gauze.

"You need medical attention!"

"It's fine. He just nicked a few of my fingers."

"What about Jon? He could have a concussion. I'm going to speak to the chief. I'll be back."

"Sansa...wait."

"What?"

Theon smiled at her sheepishly. "Thanks...again..."

==========

Sansa returned about an hour later with a rather tall tow-headed woman and the chief, whom everyone referred to as Tormund. He was carrying a large ring of keys and seemed disgruntled to be dealing with this situation in the middle of the night.

"Alright, out with you lot."

Theon stood up from where he was seated next to Jon, who was slowly waking up and getting his bearings.

"We can leave?"

"That's right. Your attorney has taken care of everything." Tormund grunted towards the tall woman.

"My name is Brienne of Tarth, attorney at law. I have offices throughout the seven counties of this region." She looked towards Theon. "You may call me Brienne."

Tormund's lips curled into a smirk. "Well, Brienne. Can't say that I've had the pleasure."

"You, sir, may call me Ms. Tarth. I am actually a tax attorney, but Sansa called and said she needed my help. So, let's spring these fellas. And the young ladies that you're holding across the way."

Tormund muttered something to himself and proceeded to unlock the cell door, keeping his eyes on Brienne the whole time. "Tax attorney, eh? Must be pretty boring. I know what could help you loosen up."

"Actually, sir, Jaime Lannister keeps me quite busy with his affairs, if you know what I mean." Brienne winked and chuckled to herself and that was the end of that.

Theon helped Jon out of the cell and mouthed the words "thank you" to Sansa as they headed towards the front office.

Theon turned to Tormund. "And Ramsay?"

"Who? The chap with the knife? He assaulted an officer. Don't think you'll be seeing much of him for awhile."

==========

Sansa dropped everyone back at their cars and drove Theon to the emergency room where he got a few stitches. Afterwards, he insisted on buying her breakfast. They ended up at Hot Pies, a 24 hour diner owned by one of Arya's best friends.

Seated across from one another in a small booth, they had asked the waitress for two cups of coffee and suggested she leave the pot with them. They had also ordered a stack of pancakes to share.

"So...how many times have you saved my ass now?"

"I've lost count. Three maybe?"

"This was the last one. I promise."

Sansa cut into the syrupy pancakes and stuffed a bite into her mouth. "I really don't mind."

Theon couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Sansa talking with her mouth full and syrup dripping down her chin.

"Shut up! I'm famished." She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Although I must say, I don't believe these pancakes are going to suffice as payment for all of my sacrifices for you."

"Really? What else do you have in mind? Bacon too?

"Well..." Sansa took another bite and was chewing slowly this time, perhaps trying to work up the courage to say what she was about to say. "You're living with Yara now? And she'll have to get up soon and go to work?"

"Right..."

"So what if we were to go to your place and..." Sansa paused and raised her eyebrows, hoping that Theon would fill in the blank. It was time to find out how he really felt about her.

He was speechless for a minute, not entirely sure what she was suggesting but then realizing from her expression that she was serious. "Sansa, I'm flattered, but do you think that's a good idea?"

Hearing his response, Sansa stabbed her fork into the pancakes and piled another bite into her mouth. She had turned pale and was refusing to make eye contact with him.

Theon knew he had to fix this. He reached over the table and grabbed her hand as she was about to pick up her purse and head for the door.

"Wait! All I meant was, I wanted you to really think about what you're suggesting. And if you're sure that's what you want..."

"Just...just forget it. I should go." Sansa pulled her hand back to her side.

"I would have asked you a long time ago if I thought you would have said yes. But what about your family? They'd be disappointed."

"I'm an adult now, Theon. I can make my own decisions."

"I know. But you could do better." And then she saw that familiar smile pass over his face, the one he sometimes wore to mask his shame and regret at not living up to what everyone else thought he should be.

"I guess I'm willing to take the risk." Sansa leaned in towards him, running her fingers along his outstretched palm.

"But once we...you know..." There was a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Then you won't be able to live without it. And how are you going to tell everyone that you've fallen for -"

Sansa reached across the table and slugged his shoulder.

"Talk is cheap, Theon Greyjoy. I'm gonna need to see what all the fuss is about before I can commit to anything."


	4. Chapter 4

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Theon? Is that you?"

"Yes. Are you alright?"

"No!"

"Is this your way of letting me know you have cold feet?"

"Theon! I swear! Now is not the time."

"You're right. I'm sorry." He could hear the panic in her voice. "My love?" He bent down to the level of the key hole and closed one eye so that he could catch a glimpse of his bride-to-be. "You’re beautiful."

Suddenly, Sansa's crystal blue eye was peering back at him. "Are you looking at me in my dress? That's bad luck."

"I think we're past that. The gods have a strange sense of humor."

He stood up and pressed his face against the door. "Are you sure you can't force it open?"

"I'm sure."

"Well, stay calm. We've called a locksmith. But he's about an hour away."

"Isn't there anyone closer?"

"No, my dear. That's what happens when you get married in an out-of-the-way locale, like this ancient castle. Very romantic, not incredibly accessible."

"What do you want me to say? You were right? Fine! We should have kept things simple." He could now hear her pacing back and forth as her heels clicked over the wooden floor.

"No, Sansa. Everything is perfect. I mean, almost everything. And besides, as good as you look in that dress right now, I can't wait to see you without it."

"That's very sweet. Of course you’re thinking about sex right now."

Silence.

"Theon?"

"Um, yes?"

"What's the matter?"

"Um, nothing."

"Did you say that thing about my dress in front of someone else?

"Well...yes. Your mother. She just came in the room. I didn't see her. Gods..."

Sansa could picture Catelyn on the other side of the door, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in disapproval.

" _Theon Greyjoy_.”

"I'm truly, truly sorry, Mrs. Stark."

Catelyn spoke louder through the door. "It's not too late to change your mind, dear!"

"Oh, Mother. Stop!"

"Fine, but you two have a decision to make."

"About what?"

"It's the septon. He needs to leave to perform another wedding before too long. I believe we budgeted time in case Sansa was running behind, but we did not foresee this kind of hiccup."

"Oh my!" Sansa started pacing again.

"Sansa, it's Theon! What do you think?"

She let out a sob. "What do I think? I've ruined everything. We'll have to send our friends away. After all of the planning. And the money we've sunk into this. I even made you ask your father for help. I'm so sorry!"

"Sansa, it's alright. Do you still want to marry me today?"

"Of course. But how?" Sansa was grateful he couldn't see her at the moment. Tears were running down her face, ruining the makeup Arya had so carefully applied after practicing for weeks.

"Then we'll do it here. I'm going to get the septon and the bridal party and all the guests we can squeeze into this room."

"What? I don't know..."

"C'mon. We've never let a door come between us before."

==========

The septon found the whole ordeal bizarre, but seeing as how the young couple was so dedicated to one another, he proceeded with the ceremony.

Theon stood next to the septon, who took his place in front of the door. The guests formed two rows and thus a small aisle for Ned and Catelyn to walk down, followed by the bridal party. The groomsmen lined up next to Theon with Sansa's bridesmaids opposite them.

Vows were spoken, and a ring was slid underneath the door. Then the crowd broke out in cheer as the septon concluded the ceremony. Theon got down on his knees again and whispered through the key hole that this was just another story to tell their children one day.

Ned Stark approached the door and shook hands with Theon. "Nicely done, Greyjoy. Make her happy. And keep her safe. You know, after she's...freed."

"Yes, sir."

The Stark children lined up to say their congratulations. Robb hugged Theon and called him "brother."

Theon asked Sansa if she was fine with releasing the guests to enjoy the reception, and with her blessing, he announced the meal.

"Please go and partake. The wine is flowing freely. Sansa and I are thrilled to have you with us, and we'll join you momentarily."

A little while after everyone had cleared the room, Bran came back, accompanied by a large man who was carrying a box of tools that rattled when he walked.

"The locksmith!"

"He's here?"

"You'll be out in time for the first course!"

The man held out a hand to Theon. "Hodor."

"That's your name?"

"Hodor." The man looked at Theon, awaiting an explanation.

"Oh, um...we need you to get this door open. My fiancée...or my wife, rather, pulled the knob off from the inside. She's stuck."

The man nodded and gestured for Theon to move out of the way. Bran shrugged his shoulders. "See you in a bit, Sis! Theon. Nice to meet you, Hodor."

Hodor waved goodbye and began digging around in his tool box.

"Was that Bran?"

"Yes."

"Did he seem intoxicated?"

"No. Why?"

"I think he likes one of the Reed kids. Since my father invited the whole family, I figured Bran might be working up the nerve to ask one of them out."

"Meera?"

"Maybe. Or Jojen."

"I guess we'll see."

Theon watched Hodor anxiously as he worked his magic, and seconds later, the door popped open.

A beautiful woman in a beautiful dress stepped out from behind the door. Theon was so happy, he wasn't sure who to hug first. But Sansa made the decision for him as she leaped into his arms and plied him with kisses.

"You clean up nice. Husband."

"Anything for you."

"Can you believe it? We're married! Or did the septon marry you and the door?"

"Funny. Are you ready to join the party?" Theon pulled her close and kissed her again.

"Not quite." Sansa began running her fingers along his lapel and giving him an all too familiar wink. "I'd like to go ahead and make this...official."

"Right. I like that idea. Well, then. Hodor, I tell you what." Theon reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Here's a hundred bucks for your services and another twenty if you leave quietly."

"Hodor."

"Hodor indeed." Theon quickly walked him to the door of the suite before shutting it and locking it. He turned to Sansa with a menacing grin.

"You know, wife...that dress of yours is going to get wrinkled and your hair's going to be out of place."

"I certainly hope so, Theon Greyjoy."


End file.
